


Complexity's Revue

by Anonymous



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game), 少女☆歌劇 レヴュー・スタァライト | Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight (Anime)
Genre: AU, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, I have several missed assignments really, I wrote beverage lesbians fighting, Lesbian fighting scenes, Revstar AU, because I can't prioritise, instead of working, why isn't this already a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24470962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: What's the use in understanding each other if she can't understand herself?
Relationships: Black Tea/Milk (Food Fantasy)
Kudos: 8
Collections: Anonymous





	Complexity's Revue

Of all the things others would say about Black Tea, foolish had never been one of them.

Until Milk arrived, that is.

Black Tea was, in all aspects, a respectable woman. Organised, serious, admirable, intelligent, calculated - not one person would ever consider her foolish, meaning that no-one had until now.

Milk would attend the weekly leisure tea practices of the five primary Satan souls in what was practically silence; she almost entirely listened, not understanding the need to occupy herself with small talk when she much preferred the quiet. She would give succinct commentary if asked, or perhaps clap Coffee or Chocolate over the head should they get too rowdy or flirtatious with each other, but she didn't fuss herself with unnecessary conversation on a typical day.

Needless to say, it shocked everyone seated when she spoke up with curt, decisive words that tore the air in two.

"You're foolish, Black Tea," she stated calmly, the usual coldness warping her tone.

"Hm?" Black Tea replied, setting her cup down. There was a shift in her voice that sounded partly conflicted and partly amused. "Why do you say that, Milk?"

That was where Milk's improvisation skills felt inadequate. How could she say this without inflating Black Tea's ego and making out that she dedicated much thought to her?

"In what way?" Black Tea inquired, signalling that Milk had been silent for too long.

Wrecking the mood with a statement like that had been insensitive now that she thought about it, but Milk never was one for emotions. Dredging up memories akin to these ones, though, was a line even she didn't want to cross.

She knew the pain of it all too well, as well as the brother she could've lost only a short while ago.

"Would you seriously like for me to go on?" she checked, her eyes pleading a daring, yet hesitant, question.

"Indulge me."

"Why should I?"

"You're the one who presented me with the claim," Black Tea pointed out. "Therefore, I'd like to learn from it. Regret is more terrifying than failure, after all. Why would I miss an opportunity to better myself?"

Milk was undeniably out of her orbit.

"Alright, fine," she agreed. "However, I won't tell you here."

Black Tea frowned slightly. "Why bring it up here then?"

"To know if you'd be willing to find out."

Pale fingers drummed against the sides of a teacup in a rhythmic manner. "Hm, alright. When can I expect to know?"

Over dinner tomorrow? 

"It's only the early morning. I'll tell you when the cafe is closed and cleaned tonight, in the courtyard." 

Or perhaps not.

"That seems acceptable," Black Tea concurred. "I'm glad I have the patience to wait."

Milk knew enough about socialisation and the implications of others to understand how that was an arranged jab at her.

—————

Confident, timed footsteps marched into a paved area, the sound resonating and alerting the other of her presence.

"Good evening, Milk."

"Good evening, Black Tea."

"Well then," she began, not waiting for a mood to settle. "What would you like me to improve on?"

"I didn't say you needed to improve on anything," Truth be told, Milk was more than content with how Black Tea currently was. "I said you were foolish."

"Hm, alright," Black Tea teased, smirking noticeably. "In which regards?"

Milk hesitated for a moment. She knew exactly what it was she found dissatisfaction from, but she never was the best with words or understanding.

"I suppose that…" she trailed off. "In a particular area, you are… Difficult."

"Difficult?" Black Tea provoked. 

"Yes," Milk spat. "I don't like repeating myself, Black Tea. With that, I mean to say that I don't understand you."

"That's… Surprising," Black Tea breathed, genuinely at a loss for once. "Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, but I assumed that we were on a similar wavelength these past few years."

Would it be inappropriate for Milk to admit she felt the same?

"Well, I suppose we are," she corrected. "But that doesn't go to say that there aren't parts of you I can't quite figure out."

"And I you, Milk," Black Tea confessed. "But how does that make me foolish?"

"I'm getting to it. Be patient."

Black Tea scoffed amusedly. "That’s quite rich coming from you, Milk."

"Try to jest like that again, Black Tea."

"Is that an invitation?"

Milk's neutral countenance faltered temporarily. "You can be rather incorrigible at times, Black Tea."

"If that opinion comes solely from you, then I'll pride myself on it."

What was that supposed to mean?

"I digress," Milk countered. "You and I are strangely similar, I admit. It surprises me how easily I can understand you."

Because Black Tea was a known wild card, because Milk didn't even understand herself, because a complete enigma was predictable to her.

"However, I…" What caused someone as well-conducted as Milk to say something as brazen as that, when she didn't understand her own implications in the first place? "What are your motivations for handling the past as you do?"

"My motivations?" Black Tea pondered. "I suppose I… Hm."

Milk chanced a look at Black Tea, noticing how her expression concreted itself in deep thought.

"Well, I'd have to say that—"

An abrupt, insolent jingle ripped them both from their conversation, and they diverted their attention to exposing it from their pockets.

Two identical phones rumbled in their hands, an unknown symbol taunting them as it shook the screen; although they had never seen it before, it felt familiar in a deep-rooted, inexplicable way.

Whatever this was, Milk followed it blindly, knowing while unknowing. She had always known these phones would be a nuisance.

A particular set of motions saw itself through, and Milk was falling.

Falling deeper than she ever had before.

Falling and rustling up a sensation that felt purifying and on fire all the same.

Falling as a cloth pulled somewhere in a different dimension.

Falling as structures shifted and redesigned themselves to something entirely new.

Falling as Black Tea presumably fell after her, before her, for her, with her.

Falling into what was both nothing and everything.

Falling.

And then, she was reborn.

—————

In a world where she recognised nothing, everything was made for her.

Milk ran her hands down the fabric tailored specially for her. 

She was wearing white leather gloves with decorative pastel blue thread patterning them: they were only the tip of the iceberg. 

Loose puff sleeves with cuffs on them coated her forearms with a thin, opaque black material. Indents adorned them, giving a flower-like air to the garment alongside thread patterns outlining them like the ones before.

Milk didn't know what the shirt they were attached to looked like: a sleeveless, white leather blazer fashioned to a similar style as her gloves hid whatever it contained. The remnants of the button-up manifested in an identical black collar; it was protruding from the space between both checkered black and white flaps of the blazer. A pastel blue tie hid the buttons of the shirt well.

In her chest pocket was a silk blue napkin - what did she need that for? Something as trivial as appearance? Who needed an alluring appearance when they were alone?

Plain white trousers with a looping pattern contrasting the others running down the right leg topped the outfit off, a fitting similarity to the perceived ostentatious image the tailor was going for. Milk didn't care for whatever shoes she was wearing.

"Milk?"

Milk pivoted at the mention of her name, conflicted over being concerned or relieved that Black Tea was here with her. She froze with bated breath as she took the latter's appearance in.

Black Tea wore an outfit that would've been an exact replica of her own, had it not been for the colour reversal of white to black and the blue being replaced with red.

She wondered if that was supposed to represent magnetism as her match.

Everything about Black Tea exuded confidence - how could it not when she stood upon a stage calling out to her, one that was essentially made for her? Black Tea looked like a monarch, a ruler, a leader, and in that moment Milk desperately wished that she was in search of a suitor.

But that would be too hopeful.

"Black Tea," Milk replied, abundantly aware of her struggling tone.

Black Tea gave her a rare, warm smile, and promptly felt for something on her back. Before Milk knew it, Black Tea wielded a…

Bow and arrow?

"Hm," she murmured, examining the item. "Well, I suppose that whatever I'll have to use this for, my gunmanship should aid me in aiming. Ah, Milk, there's something in your sheath."

Milk glanced down, and true to her words, there was a dagger trapped in a sheath by the side of her hip. It was strange how she didn't notice it in her distressed apathy.

The weapon felt heavy in her hands as she shifted its weight back and forth. Being a healer didn't support her in a situation like this, but then again, she wasn't exactly in anticipation for the spotlight.

Black Tea started to walk around curiously, bringing Milk to notice something she considered important for an unrecognisable reason - the blazing red cape trailing from her shoulders.

[Welcome to The Auditions.]

It genuinely astounded Milk how indifferent she felt towards that supposed revelation. The world had been disassembled and recreated within moments, so she assumed other pieces of information would hardly be shocking.

Black Tea seemed to absorb every detail she could find about their circumstances, however.

[Two souls, dancing closer together than either expected…]

The statement held truth. Milk found herself surprised by each outcome even now.

[How will they fare in this revue, I wonder? In a world where together is no more, only one can win and be granted with their heart's desire.]

"Their heart's desire?" Black Tea spoke up.

"Anything you want."

"Anything you want…" Milk repeated. 

"Milk?" Black Tea questioned.

If she could have anything the sunlight touched, what would she take? Milk wasn't familiar with the concept of wanting to begin with. She wasn't allowed to want: she couldn't let herself do so. Not when everything was so mortal, not when it all could be taken away.

But if something could be taken, then it could equally be restored.

"A stage for two, where only one can prevail triumphant. Should your cape fall, you shall fall with it. To fail this round of auditions and lose your place as the Top Star."

"In order to win, we have to use our weapons against the other, I take it," Black Tea stated. "I refuse to hurt you, Milk."

Milk tore the dagger from its cage, letting a deafening screech erupt as she did so.

"That's not an option, Black Tea."

Black Tea's eyes widened; an unmasked expression of pure shock and fear contorted her face.

"... What?"

[REVUE OF EXHAUSTION]

"No," she pronounced firmly. "I said I refuse to fight with you, Milk."

"The giraffe told us to, so we must."

An exasperated sigh fell from her lips as Black Tea craned her neck in the direction Milk referenced, only to see a stuffed giraffe lodged in a chair among a sea of many.

"That's…" Black Tea stammered, lost for words. "Why are you taking orders from an animatronic giraffe?"

Milk shrugged plainly, sharpening the end of her dagger. "I assume it has a justifiable reason."

"Whatever it is, I doubt it's justifiable enough," Black Tea scowled. "I refuse to hurt you."

"You sound like a broken record," Milk snapped dryly. "We don't actually have to hurt each other. All we need to do is wrestle the capes from each other until one of ours falls."

"And you assume that will just free us from here?"

"I don't see why it wouldn't."

Rapid footsteps clanked against the floor before there was more room for discussion, and Black Tea drew back an arrow for a chance at success.

Until the need to release it didn't come.

A piano played a song that sounded both distant and stiflingly close to the pair, spotlights spawned above them and clanged on, and suddenly Milk was sitting on a crescent moon up in the air, dangling from seemingly nowhere.

"... What?" Black Tea attempted. "Milk, why are you… Suspended?"

Milk tapped a beat idly on the space next to her. "I'm not sure. I was charging at you, and then I flew up here without doing so freely myself."

The beat she created got louder, thicker, was imitated by the slam of twenty drum sets, became the feature of an impromptu performance.

And then, controlled by a figure in the distance, a spotlight glistened on.

"I draw the line at singing," Milk called out, rising to her feet. "Pleasing a giraffe is one thing, sparring as a healer is another, but I'm not going to sing."

"Priorities," Black Tea cracked tiredly.

Milk swung down without a signal, taking the excessive light fixture with her, and tore a hole in a low section of Black Tea's cape: a warning shot.

"Black Tea. Let's get this over with."

The light behind Black Tea's eyes dimmed, and she looked down, steadily travelling forwards. "Alright."

Milk paused, analysing the spectacle before her. Black Tea had arrived at the centre of the stage, positioned at what seemed to be a makeshift bullseye. She was wide open, vital cape left unattended - what was she playing at?

"Black Tea, what are you doing?"

Turning her focus to Milk, who was eyeing her up and down as if she couldn't comprehend her actions, Black Tea answered.

"You told me to get this over with," Black Tea responded. "Henceforth, I'm doing so. You can take the cape from my shoulders when you're ready."

Milk scowled, throwing a second dagger threateningly close to Black Tea's head and walking on. "You call yourself a leader?"

The fire was reignited. "What?"

She was practically dancing now, a flurry of showlights revealing themselves by her side. "Again, I don't like repeating myself."

"What do you mean by that, Milk?" Black Tea inquired, motionless as an ensemble of glamour was formed around her match.

*You're intelligent, Black Tea," she claimed, saying her name like it was punctuation. "I'm sure you can figure it out."

"I'm afraid not, Milk. And why are you staring at me like that?"

Milk stopped, meeting her eye for a second. "Your position. Why are you just standing there? We're supposed to be fighting."

"Supposed to, yes, but I don't intend to," she revealed. "I give myself up to you. I'm just trying to complete this as quickly as possible."

An ensemble of fallen angels readied themselves at Milk's sides. "And I'm just trying to make sure that you don't out yourself as a coward to me."

"So that's what it is," Black Tea scoffed. "You think I'm a coward because I don't want to use a weapon against you?"

"Precisely. It isn't as if I'd be hurt by it."

"I'm not stupid. I know that," she spat. "But even so, I couldn't aim a weapon at you, whether you'd be hurt by it or not. My entire being refuses to do something like that."

Milk sighed. "Listen, because I refuse to repeat this again. I can't begin to imagine what brought us to this, but we're here to fight, and I intend to fight you. It'd be an insult not to, and if you don't fight back, I'll assume you don't consider me worthy. I take orders, Black Tea. You of all people should know that we're supposed to."

"How could you find it insulting not to fight me?" Black Tea asked.

"This conversation is getting tedious," Milk condemned, a neon sign behind her buzzing on. "I'm sick of it."

The sign illuminated itself into life, reading "HARMONY" in pure white. Opposing it was a burning red sign, screaming a foul "DISCORD".

Milk lunged for Black Tea's shoulder; her reflexes activated at that with a scorching regret. 

A chorus of violins screeched something horrid and, like the night, a powerful force swept them away.

The luminous moon didn't once creak under their weight. Milk's daggers, positioned tightly against both of Black Tea's sides to trap her, glistened like the stars around them. 

"Do you have something against me?" Black Tea forced out, irritated at her lack of control.

"Hardly so," Milk replied, tracing the metal down the edge of her match's cape without hesitation or a proper motive. "Have I given you that impression? If so, I'm sorry."

"N-No, it's just…" Her words drifted off, weighed down by the crush of adrenaline. "You seem frustrated in moments like these sometimes."

"Moments like these?" She raised an impartial eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever held you against a wall armed before."

"Right, sorry. I meant… Vulnerability."

The word left a stinging taste on Milk's tongue as she heard it being spoken.

"I don't believe I'm incorrect in saying that we've grown close," Black Tea admitted. "Despite that, sometimes when we talk about more… Personal matters, it's like… You're afraid that the things you say are immortalised. So you pull away, somewhat. On a different note, it seems you don't care to tear my cape off now."

Milk didn't want to react to the truth. Everything was so much more terrifying when it was said aloud. 

"I'm not striking you because you aren't fighting back," Milk informed her. "For the last time, this is a fight. I don't want to talk. Why aren't you pushing me away?"

"Do you expect me to push you away?"

"... You aren't talking about the battle when you say that, are you?"

Black Tea smiled. "Interpret it as you will."

Gripping both intruding hands and taking them away, Black Tea kissed Milk's knuckles carefully, waiting for them to be pulled back.

Milk paused slightly, retracting her hands with a tinge of remorse and embarrassment. "We're in the middle of an audition, Black Tea."

"I'm well aware."

The weapon loosened up a minimalistic fraction of Black Tea's cape, presumably as some form of payback.

"Then take this seriously."

A spiralling staircase that formed with her every step transported Milk away from Black Tea, giving her time to restore coherent thoughts to her head.

Flagpoles brandishing a wide array of colours ascended from a materialising blue platform, standing proud for their activator, who couldn't. Milk swung herself around a pale one, unconsciously tapping a rhythm that brought on the next development in the music.

"Black Tea," Milk called, flashing her a gentle smile that wouldn't be reserved for any other. "I understand we're at odds right now, but the least you could do is tolerate me. Unlike you, I'm not exactly patient."

Black Tea returned the gesture, sending connected electronic lights to embolden the flags Milk had summoned. Even so, her smile quickly vanished, an arrow being shot in its place.

"If you want to fight rather than argue, you'll have to wait and entertain me for a little longer," Black Tea answered. "It's been long overdue that we talked about this."

"About what?"

"About the things you never say."

Milk rolled her eyes. "There are so many things that could entail, Black Tea. Give me the specifics."

A step up from one, a step away from the other.

"You never want to talk about your past."

"You've never minded accepting yours."

A thrust forward from one, a dodge back from the other.

"You never try to understand yourself."

"I know it'd be futile if I did."

A successful breaking of a red cape's hold on one, a failed attempt from the other.

"You've never once valued yourself or believed that you deserve those around you."

A toppling lunge from one, the slipping off of another.

Black Tea huffed in irritation, propelling herself back onto Milk's platform. 

"What were you going to tell me before we arrived here?" Milk checked, rejecting Black Tea's last statement. "When I asked you why you want to remember your past."

"I've already explained how I never want to forget my beloved Master Attendant, Milk," Black Tea responded. "That way she can live on in my memory, just as she does in my heart."

"But doesn't it hurt to remember her?" Milk hesitated, choking on unspoken words. "Why do you want to hurt yourself, Black Tea?"

"It's never hurt me to love, Milk. Why do you want to forget?"

The dagger trembled in her hands.

"Because I…" she trailed off, a grim expression taking hold of her. "I don't know how else I'm supposed to handle it. It spares me the weight, so I don't bring others down with pity."

"You run from intimacy."

Milk looked up at Black Tea, the flags fluttering humbly behind her.

"I suppose I can understand where you're coming from when you say that," Black Tea confessed. "However, only now have I had the chance to hear you. I want to hear you, Milk. I'll always be here to hear you. Why won't you let me?"

Milk ignored the stinging in her eyes as she formed a response. "I… I don't know."

Black Tea smiled, reaching forward to cup Milk's cheek. 

"That's alright," she concluded. "Even if you don't figure any of this out, I'll still be here."

Tears welled up in Milk's eyes as she suppressed a greater reaction. 

"You're so foolishly caring, Black Tea…" Milk whispered quietly. "It's almost painful."

"Then I'll wait until it isn't."

The fire in her eyes was restored in full force, highlighting the scarlet hues symbolising its intensity.

"I… I don't want to wait for it to stop. I'm not sure if it will once I'm alone," she confessed. "I'll grow impatient and neglect it again."

"If that's the case, then I'll make sure you don't forget," Black Tea reassured her. "I want you to flourish even more as a person, Milk. You can't shake me off that easily."

Milk smiled wider than before, wordlessly handing her a dagger. Black Tea stared at it blankly, confused at the gesture.

"You can't shoot an arrow properly when someone's only a ruler's length away," Milk alerted her. "This is a fair fight, and we'll end it as such. You especially can't use a bow and arrow against the person you're kissing."

Stunned and confused, Black Tea froze as her own weapon clattered to the floor.

"What? Now?" she stammered. "We're in the middle of an audition, Milk."

"As you said, I'm well aware," Milk teased. "And it's the end, not the middle."

"Very funny."

Regardless, Black Tea smiled shyly as she readied herself for the oncoming blow.

"Let's finish this," Milk declared.

The pair pulled closer, relishing in a reward so much unlike the one offered to them.

A cape collapsed onto the floor.

They didn't care which.

**Author's Note:**

> Posting anonymously because I find this fic disappointing. Also, it's the dumbest idea I've had.


End file.
